


In the Night

by wordsonpages



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Love, Passion, Smut, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 11:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11207127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsonpages/pseuds/wordsonpages
Summary: But there was one thing about the nights that she liked far more than any of its rivals. And that thing was the dark haired boy that climbed through her window as the hours of late night morphed into early morning.- Bughead amidst Riverdale Civil War, finding an escape in each other ;)





	In the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovelies! SO again this was orignally posted on my tumblr account wordsonpages1  
> I will be posting most of my tumblr works on here over the next week or so as well as some of my pieces from my 'The Perfect Enigma' series on ff.net x

It’s late; her room shrouded with darkness, the soft pinks and coordinated pastels disappearing into shades of black. Betty likes the nights. She likes the stillness outside her window, the insanity of the town fading away for a few hours as the people slept. The line drawn between the North and South sides of Riverdale ever so stark in the day, blurring into the cloak of ebony; still inherently there, but easier to ignore.   
But there was one thing about the nights that she liked far more than any of its rivals. And that thing was the dark haired boy that climbed through her window as the hours of late night morphed into early morning. 

He would clamber through the frame sometimes with a charming smile on his lips and a light in his eyes, sometimes with a deep frown and a tense jaw. Sometimes he would find her with clenched fists and tear stained cheeks, other nights a playful smirk and a teasing comment. His beanie discarded, her hair down they would talk into the next day about school, movies, books and his new home, about civil wars and leather jackets, about well-established facades, jailed fathers, pregnant sisters, and struggling friends.   
Sometimes they would lie comfortably on the bed, leaning into each other, subtle brushes of hands on skin or through hair. And other nights-nights like this one- their embraces were much more passionate, their intent far from innocent. On nights like this, they would muffle moans in pillows and necks; make the other writhe as they succumbed to the inferno they had built. Their eyes would meet heady and dark, a breath would hitch, a groan would resound, fingers reaching, filthy words whispered in ears. It was slow and sensual, hot and heavy, fast and passionate; an intricate push and pull of control. 

Betty loved the nights, craving their intimacy like nothing else. She craved his body, his mind, his touch, his soul. Him.

Her eyes roamed him now. He was beautiful. Jughead’s chest was bared to her, revealing the hard planes, the lean muscles of his arms, and the subtle yet prominent ridges of his abdomen. Her lilac sheets pooled around his waist, the sharp v at his hips teasing her line of sight to what lay below. She bit her lip as her heavy gaze trailed back up his olive tinged skin, her fingers reaching out to trace patterns across it. It was warm under her touch, soothing. She ran trails up toward his collar bones, dipping into the hollows, before tracing up his neck connecting the moles. She marvelled at the symmetry of his face, the sharp lines of his jaw, his long dark lashes and full lips. Finally, her hands moved to his hair, running through the dark locks with a gentleness that was bordering on fragile. It made his heart stutter in his chest, the effect only matched by the longing and loving tint in her gaze. 

Betty had always thought he was handsome, always felt the pull of attraction whenever she looked his way or caught him looking hers. But it was here in these moments, reserved just for the two of them, liberated from the expectations and confrontations of the world that she felt most enamoured with him. It was here in her bed where she wanted him most. Just like this, where the walls he built so high around everyone else were pulled down for her.   
Jughead watched her graze his form intently. His tongue darting out to lick his lips while his arms rested under his head on the pillow. She felt hot under his eyes, the air around them crackling with electricity as she moved her hands back down to trail his chest again. 

She had already had him so many times tonight, but god she was so enraptured with him and she couldn’t help but think she would never have enough.   
Jughead raised his eyebrows at her as her stare locked on his and an amused smirk twitched at his lips. Betty felt the thrill of desire flood her body again, shivers running down her spine as the temperature in the room rose, and the ache between her thighs made itself known.   
She was sitting next to him on the bed, her legs crossed his t-shirt the only item she adorned. Jughead thinks she’s never looked more enticing then she does right now, hair wild, eyes darkened with want and widened in awe, lips swollen. 

He raises up on one forearm unable to resist her much longer, his other hand moving to slide along her thigh in a teasing caress. 

“I feel objectified,” he whispers in the air between them, the sarcasm of the comment blending with his husky voice in a way that makes wetness pool between her legs as a consequence of its sensuality. 

Her hands come up to rest against his shoulders, palms flat against the hot skin. 

“You should,” she responds breathlessly, her tone unabashedly full of desire. 

He raises a sardonic brow at her again, as he sits up fully now, the sheet dropping lower and she fights with her will power to not follow its lapse with her eyes. 

“You’re quite the looker,” she elaborates, although it comes out broken as his hands slide under his t-shirt on her body, resting against her hips and pulling her up on her knees. 

“Yeah?” he mumbles, the word delivered on her mouth as his lips brush against her own, a whisper of contact she so holistically craves. 

Betty nods, her eyes drifting shut as a whine erupts from her throat. His fingers have ventured higher, one circling the outline of her breast, the other brushing her hair back off her face. 

He captures her lips then, an opened mouth kiss so sensual and full of promise, lingering and hot. It’s a promise that she knows well and it enlivens her. She licks the taste of him- cigarettes, cola and her own strawberry lip gloss- from her lips, her eyes opening to look at him through heavy lids. A stray ebony curl falls over his eyes, which are a stormy shade from his own want and damn if he doesn’t look the epitome of sex appeal right now. 

His breath tickles her skin, so close yet so far and her hands grip his shoulders tighter, wanting waiting.

“Juggie,” she whimpers as the hand under her shirt ghosts across her breast, barely touching the peaked nipple that signifies her arousal along with the dampness between her thighs. He smirks again she feels it on her skin as he drops a feather light kiss to collar bone.

“Yeah baby?” 

Betty throws her head back. His nose brushes hers. She aches for him. His gentle touches are setting her every nerve on edge, alight and alert, buzzing. She’s dizzy in a way she never thought she could be sober and it makes her feel so alive. But she needs more. There’s a pulsing between her legs. 

“Please,” she breathes on his lips the sound almost embarrassingly wanton. It only strokes his ego though, further igniting his lust for her, reaffirming his enthrallment with the beautifully dishevelled and broken blonde he’s lucky enough to call his own. 

He loves these moments. The one’s in which she relinquishes the control she fights so hard to keep in every other aspect of her life over to him. Let’s him take charge, enjoys when he takes charge. 

“Please touch me.” His eyes darken at her words impossibly further and her heart thumps violently in her chest in response. His treacherous fingers dance down her rib cage and she lets out a huff of frustration, eyes sliding shut. 

“I am Betts,” his words spoken softly, yet sinfully in her ear, his teeth ever so slightly grazing the shell. Betty’s glad she hadn’t bothered to put panties on again because she’s sure if she had they’d be ruined by now. She shakes her head, a gasp leaving her pink lips as a strong hand cradles her jaw in a firm grip. Her eyes open. She swallows thickly as she loses herself in the desire she reads in his eyes. 

“Tell me what you want Betty,” he rasps and her knees buckle at the pure lust in his voice. She’s panting and she’s sure in any other universe with any other boy she would be offended by the assertions, ashamed of her behaviour, but here with him it just feels right and natural and so hot.   
He waits for an answer, his hands moving from her jaw to her hips again, lifting her from her collapsed heap beside him and onto his lap. Her legs automatically open for him, one knee either side of his hips. She bucks against him and keens as she feels his hardness against her wanting centre. 

Jughead’s teeth nip at her collar bone and she tries to grind against him harder but his strong grip on her hips hold her just above his erection now. She’s almost in tears due to the sheer frustration of how badly she wants him and the lack of attention he’s paying to her desire. But she also loves this game, revelling in the way his power grows. 

“Answer me,” he says it sweetly, muffled in the junction where her shoulder and neck meet, but she knows it’s a demand not a plea and that knowledge has her back arching to get closer. 

“I want you inside of me. Please,” he growls at her words, and she gasps as his kisses become more deliberate against her neck, his teeth pulling at her delicate skin of her pulse before soothing it with his tongue. He pulls her hips down roughly against his, and she’s grinding against him furiously seeking friction like her lungs seek oxygen. He groans again as his eyes flutter shut for a moment while her hands drag across his abs and then over the muscles in his back, loving the way they contract under her touch.   
His lips find hers, as a hand finds her breast again this time kneading the flesh with purpose, flicking over the rosy peak to invite mewls to spill from her lips, into his mouth where he swallows them. His tongue seeks hers out and caresses it with such finesse she forgets her name for a second. When her sense returns she repays the favour, drawing his bottom lip between her teeth and biting down in the way she knows makes him lose his mind. 

Suddenly she’s on her back and he’s hovering above her with a predatory gaze. It makes her feel sexy and beautiful- it’s a feeling that she cherishes and never wants to let go of. His hands run up her inner thighs, as his eyes stay locked on her own green orbs. Her legs part like they always do beneath his beckoning touch and her chest rises with anticipation as his fingers creep higher. His body creeps lower and her hips are thrusting up toward him in a frantic attempt to speed him up because god she’s so turned on.   
A single finger runs through her arousal, and she shudders. 

“God you’re so wet,” he groans against her inner thigh, his mouth sucking on the skin there to leave another purple bruise. She throws her head back with a low whine, almost coming undone from his filthy words and merciless teasing alone. 

He gives into her then, the picture of her in such a state of arousal hard to deny. His lips wrap around her clit and her back arches violently, her hips jutting off the bed. His hands move to hold them down as he continues to move his tongue sinfully inside her, before replacing it with his fingers and moving his mouth back to her sensitive bundle of nerves. Betty’s eyes are shut tight as her mouth hangs open in a silent scream the occasional whimper and light moan passing through. Her thighs begin to quake and he knows she’s close so he doubles his efforts to get her right to the peak. She’s whimpering his name like a prayer and her hands are gripping his hair tightly. And then he’s gone.   
Her eyes snap open and she’s not sure if she wants to cry or scream. His face is above hers smirking cockily. She’s in shock and so impossibly wound up and aroused. She lets out a frustrated huff and bucks her hips toward his, searching for any kind of relief for the ache between her legs. When he pulls back slightly again she pouts at him. 

“What the hell,” she breathes in exasperation although in her state of arousal it’s not threatening like she wants. Jughead chuckles lowly and pushes her hair away from her face. 

“What?” he asks feigning innocence and Betty gapes at him. 

“Did you want to come?” he asks eyes losing all traces of playfulness and returning to the dangerous dark blue she’s grown to crave. His fingers run leisurely through her folds, making her whole body go rigid and all she can do is nod vigorously. 

“Ask nicely,” he breathes sinfully on her lips as he moves his fingers out the way and pulls her legs over his hips. His erection brushes against her clit and she moans almost much too loudly for someone trying not to get caught with a boy in their room at 3am. He’s dripping with sexual confidence and it makes Betty so excitable. She complies to his demands. 

“Juggie please fuck me until I come,” she whispers directly in his ear and he lets out a primal growl before entering her hard. His pace is ferocious but she doesn’t complain. It’s hot and wanting and desperate and filled with so much passion she can’t take it. 

Her hips rock back against his with no restraint and she’s coming within seconds. Her head tilts back and her jaw goes slack as her body quivers with the shocks of her release, his name on her lips. He keeps going though. His hips snap into hers over and over and his fingers tease her sensitive bundle of nerves. He reaches that spot inside her that makes her walls clench and she’s right on that edge again. Her moans are making his control slip and he’s almost there. He groans in her ear as she clamps around him again and she whimpers in response. 

“Don’t come yet,” he breathes against her lips . His hand wraps around her thigh lifting her leg over his shoulder. Betty’s mouth parts in a high pitched moan at his words, her walls fluttering as he fills her deeper.

“I can’t-“ she starts, the syllables broken by her pants of pleasure. 

“You can,” he asserts back and she knows it’s not an option. 

He thrusts into her hard and fast his breathing laboured, her keening. But he’s hitting that place inside her and pressing hard on her clit and it’s so hard to hold on to her control.   
Her eyes clamp shut, fighting the impending release and getting lost in how good it feels to have him. 

“Let go,” he moans in her ear and she loses it, clamping down on him like a vice as his own release hits him. 

“Fuck Betty,” he groans in her ear and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough of her name on his lips.  
Moments later when their spent and sated he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her snuggly against his body. She’s curled comfortably against his chest and her lips drop to press a delicate kiss over his heart. 

“I love you,” Betty states comfortably and with a conviction he could never question. 

“I love you,” he affirms, pressing his own lips to her temple and stroking her hair until she lulls against him, sleep captivating them both.


End file.
